


Day 5: Secret Santa

by SaiTheWriter



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Candy Canes, Gags, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Office, Predicament Bondage, Reno can't help himself, Secret Santa, Vibrators, novelty toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiTheWriter/pseuds/SaiTheWriter
Summary: Rufus nabs quite possibly the worst Secret Santa.Or does he?
Relationships: Reno/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24
Collections: Shinra Holiday 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frienduccine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frienduccine/gifts).



> Merry Holidays to my lovely Frienduccine, on this beautiful day.

_Join the Secret Santa, Tseng said, it’ll be good for PR, he said._

Rufus ran his eyes over the card and the name upon it, cursing this foolish present business. True, he could just send a gift card, but that outlet was thoroughly discouraged by the bright clip art posters on every gods forsaken level of the tower. Though not the entirety of the company was required to play, certain departments had been healthily encouraged. Poor Reno, he wished him luck finding something Scarlet wouldn’t take somehow as an insult. Still, the question remained.

What the hells could SOLDIER 3rd Class Roche even want?

There was a monetary minimum and maximum, of course, so he at least had some form of planning to go off of. And dragging his eyes down to the cheery little ‘Holiday Hint’ each person wrote down, the man’s slanted scrawl merely stated: Surprise me. A huff of breath in irritation and the paper was crumpled to toss in the wastebasket, his eyes narrowed. 

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re trying to weasel out of it already, sir.” Tseng murmured a few steps to the side, hand sliding away from giving him the card in the first place.

“No.” Rufus immediately denied, somewhat testily. “Though I’ve not got the first place to start. Can’t you just have my secretary pick something out for him?” It was not a cop out, he merely didn’t intend to waste too much time on it.

“That misses the entire point of this game, sir.” Tseng reminded him, the tiny glimmer in his gaze offering up a hint as to his current amusement to the situation. He’d not been the one to randomize the setup, but HR had indeed allowed him to hand out Rufus’ since he was on his way up for a meeting. “You have a full two weeks before the holiday party to think about it. Given your status in the company, you might even be able to cheat to see what he might enjoy.”

At that Rufus sneered faintly, his lip curling up. “I don’t need to cheat to get what I need. I’ll get him a candle or some aromatics for his locker. I’m sure anyone would enjoy those.” Everyone enjoyed candles.

Tseng remained quiet for several moments, though his smile tilted faintly up to show his amusement. “If that's what you want to gift, that’s at least better than shoving it off onto someone else.” He demurred, tipping his head in deference and moving to take his leave, now that all of his business was concluded. “Just remember, no one likes to be told they stink in gift form.”

Rufus scoffed as the door clicked shut, turning back to his screen to prod at the meeting minutes, his mood still tinged with petulance at being caught out. It didn’t take long at all really for him to forget his responsibility for the moment, poring over the data points of their initial meeting.

In fact, the idea left his mind completely for over a week, not even registering until a meeting brought up the morale boost gained from the event, the mention causing him to still briefly in his seat. The only one that seemed to care was Tseng, of course, who likely had known of his lapse in memory. 

A curt murmur allowed him to excuse himself, an action not uncommon, given his cool exterior. By the time he reached his office, the thought of sneaking a peek at the man’s files had solidified. Surely he could find out friends of the blond, gather something to give him an edge in this business.

A quick look at his employee file left him with nothing to speak of, not at least in the acquaintance department. The man seemed content to ride alone, for he did indeed prefer to fight while astride his vehicle. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease with friendly fire casualties if it got his mission done. Likely for both the reason of ample solo missions, as well as his lack of associations. 

The implications scrapped at his mind, but he had his breadcrumbs to work with, dallying was not productive. Their cycles had some of the best equipment already installed, and specialty machinery was both well over the allotted price, as well as custom to the rider. It wouldn’t do to put something there for him that might not fit or would cause issues in maneuvering. 

However…

Thinning his lips, the blond dragged up a browser, bringing up Moogle for a quick search. If Tseng knew what he was about to do, the man would never let him live it down. But...desperate times and all that. Rolling his shoulders, the blond tapped out the first step of his plot, curious but perfectly confident his search would bring something to the fore.

_What to get for a guy with a motorcycle?_

~*R*~

“Roche.”

His clipped murmur snagged the blond’s attention, his face tilting towards the other man and promptly widening his eyes. It wasn’t exactly unknown for the President to speak to the SOLDIERs, but it was definitely few and far between. Roche turned to face him, the bells of his antler headband jingling merrily at the pivot. “Oh. Merry Christmas sir.” He managed, setting his champagne down, to the surprise of his comrades around him. His gaze slid past him, towards the private rounds of tables set aside for the board and assistants. “What brings you over here?”

He felt wooden, but the prod helped bring up the neatly wrapped package, kitschy silver snowflakes all over the rectangular box. Roche’s brows rose in surprise, glancing from the gift to his employer, obviously surprised. “You were my Secret Santa, huh?” Slowly his smirk came back, reaching to take the gift and dipping his head. “I got lucky with mine, sorry about your own luck.” 

Deftly tearing away the paper, the SOLDIER peered at what was obviously a clothing box, the white square making a ripple of worry twitch through his gaze. The pres wouldn’t get him something horrible like a button down or something right? That’s the only thing these boxes usually came from. But no, his eyes beheld a black tee within, the white of text in the corner begging him to pull it open completely and inspect. 

Around him the others had gone back to their own merriment and exchanges, the surprise of the boss swinging by slowly melting away as they returned to their cups. Only Roche truly remained with him, and for an obvious reason. Setting the box to the side, he unfurled the shirt fully and crowed with delight, obviously won over by the font settled on the front. “Sir, I applaud your choice, I couldn’t have picked better myself.”

Rufus merely shrugged a single shoulder, reaching to pluck up a full glass from the table’s offerings. “I merely did a bit of research on your person. Aside from gross amounts of unneeded property and personnel damage, you also like your motorcycle.” There was a mild sense of satisfaction as the SOLDIER had the sense to look mildly embarrassed, though he looked not at all apologetic.

“Well, when you put it like that.” A laugh huffed out, his fingers tightening briefly at the hem of the tee before shoving it at Rufus’ hand, plucking up his holiday headgear and planting it right down on the president’s head himself. The man was so surprised he actually took up the shirt, perplexed until Roche began to struggle out of the light up and garish sweater he’d splattered onto his person for the party. 

It wasn’t that he was staring for any reason in particular, moreso that the blond had made quite a spectacle of himself as he stripped from the waist up. More eyes around them focused on every inch of well muscled flesh that appeared, a few rowdy merrymakers at the table clapping to cheer him on. Dropping the sweater to the chair nearby, he hummed a thanks as he snagged back the shirt, wriggling it on over his head and calmly tugging the headband back from the other blond’s head. Planting his hands on his hips, Roche twisted, offering a cocky little salute to the man, the upside down font proudly settled tight across his chest.

¿ʎɐʞo

ǝʞᴉq

ʎɯ sI

“It’s me, I don’t know how you picked so well, this has me all revved up.” Roche crowed, obviously giddy, his movements tilting the headband to a jaunty cock atop his head. “I hope they do this another year, this is the best gift I’ve gotten in ages!”

Another curl of insight happened at that mention, his thoughts rolling back to the bland file he’d pilfered on his computer. It helped stave off the irritation of being a momentary clothes rack for the giddy giant. “I’ve it on good authority that we’ll continue, given the ecstatic responses.” He murmured blandly, the lie smooth on his lips. There was no need to lie, no need to continue the conversation. And yet, the blond suitably captured his attention. He wasn’t treated like a superior in this, something which was supremely refreshing.

So much so, that he completely missed the sudden lunge as the SOLDIER swept him up in a hug. 

It was over and done in a split second, leaving him slightly wobbly and sudden attention on them both. “Good, sure was nice to pick something out for something else, and now I get to see if she’s road worthy on the way home.” He rumbled with unbridled glee, jabbing his chest and the shirt tight against it. Ah, he’d gone a bit too tight.

“If you’ve a need for a larger size…” Rufus began, his decorum slowly returning. 

“This works just fine, many thanks to you. Everybody likes a good tight shirt.” Roche reached out, patting away a bit of fuzz from the president’s otherwise pristine suit. Likely from his new shirt. “Better get back up there sir, before I try to make you sit here with us.” 

The tease put him sideways just as much, his eyes veering towards the group. “Much as the night might be more interesting down here, I believe there are other machinations tonight requiring my presence.”

“Godspeed then, sir. I hope to see you on the road sometime.” Not exactly a farewell he’d heard before, but given the man’s pastimes, it fit rather well. All the way up to the executive’s table, he felt not one, but two pairs of eyes on him, the rest having fallen away once the interaction had been abandoned.

“Seems like you made a new friend, sir.” Tseng observed as he sat, gaze back down to the loud scenes below. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rufus sniffed, turning his attention to the rest of the table pointedly. Throughout the rest of the night, he found his attention wandering, sliding down to peer at the tee clad man as loud as could possibly be. 

Only to find those bright eyes watching him right back.


	2. Tseng's Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a brain worm this morning that wouldn't leave, therefore you get a bit of an immediate sequel.

The spectacle over, Tseng turned back towards their table, though his eyes occasionally wandered down to where his own subordinates settled around their own table. Of all people, Rude had gotten Elena, who had delighted in what looked like some form of jewelry given the thin square box she was clutching. 

A secretary from the HR bullpen had timidly approached the man in return, bringing with her a lovely purple scarf the quiet man wore now, much to her delight. Earlier in the evening, Elena had given her own gift, though he’d not caught who to. 

And Reno?

The man was tilted back in his seat, wearing a matching scarf in green to his partner. Hilarious that he’d gotten yet another from HR, but the double effort certainly matched the pair. He’d yet to give out his own gift, obvious in part by the garish candy cane wrapping around a thick oblong box to the side of his drink. Sipping from his drink, the Turk noted at last that his superior’s eyes were on him, sending him a flushed little wink before reaching for his phone to tap something out. 

However, the message he’d expected never came. Instead, across the table, Scarlet’s phone lit up silently. Setting aside her glass at the notification, the blonde tilted her phone up, one finely penciled eyebrow arching up. Immediately her gaze slid across to him, then down to the chatter of the tables below. Excusing herself from a conversation with Reeve, she rose to her feet, smoothing down the deep navy flute of a dress she’d chosen for the night. 

Tseng watched her go, his gaze dragged away by the movement below. Reno too, had risen, grabbing up his package and exiting towards the elevator that would take him from the large banquet hall up into the executive floors. Given the direction she’d moved as well, no doubt the man had asked for privacy. Thinning his lips, Tseng could do nothing but shake his head. It meant his second had likely gotten something explicit merely to toy with her. 

“Will you need to break them up? I’d thought he knew better than to try and get under her skin.” Cam a murmur from his right, Rufus had apparently seen the movement, or some, and had guessed their path well.

“It’s the holiday, I feel safe in guessing she won’t kill him. Perhaps making him regret his actions will cool his mischief for a few weeks until he forgets.” He returned, tilting up in time to see Reeve tugging them into something far more interesting meanwhile. The man was overjoyed with his own gift; some toy replica of a Golden Saucer ride, and the man was eager to share his good mood with the rest.

In fact, despite his eye on the time, he found himself losing track of it, startled to find that when Scarlet returned to her seat, it was far more than a half hour later. A slide of his eyes towards the floor told him Reno’s seat was still empty, bringing his gaze back up only to find Scarlet smirking at him over her glass. 

“Don’t worry, your precious little hound is still alive. He gave me a gift I decided looked much better with him, so I politely declined. He might be a little unhappy with my return though, so you might want to go console him in the boardroom.” The blond murmured, tilting back her wine to drain the last few swallows. “Oh, and Tseng?” She called, watching him pause from already rising. “You’ll find your present from me there as well. You must know you’re hard to shop for, so I came up with it on the fly.” She’d had him? Perfect. As if the night couldn’t get worse.

He kept his face a neutral mask as he muttered his thanks, much as he wanted to tell her where to put her glass, and rose, excusing himself from the table to disappear the same way she’d entered. Reno had asked her to move somewhere not just out of sight, but rather private. Instead of somewhere he might still be seen with her and whatever he’d gifted, it had been a place with a door. Likely that’s what saved his hide. If anyone had a chance to walk in on her displeasure, he would have been dead.

A quick ride up had him debating on just what she’d been gifted, pondering it all the way to the top and out into the executive hall. The area was mostly dark now after hours, a few lights keeping the hall lit for the housekeeping shift that was also down at the party. Looming at the end were the sleek double doors most high end mission and regular board meetings occurred, the two looking ominous there in the low light as he approached. The closer he approached, the slower his steps became, mildly worried by the lack of sound. Were Reno in a pickle, he’d be bleating expletives and cursing her wicked name. Now there was only silence. At least, until he reached for the door. 

And heard what could only be a muffled moan.

Without waiting, he threw open the door and stepped in, fully prepared to find his second rolling in pain on the ground from interacting with the blonde. What he was not prepared for, however, was the soft buzz in the air, and the bound man in front of him.

Reno lay on the ground, that lovely green scarf tightly binding his arms down along his back. That wasn’t keeping him pulled back, however. Oh no, his hair was dragging his head back into an obviously uncomfortable position, tied tight to the end of what looked to be..a candy cane hook? This must have been his ill taken present, and Scarlet had seen to making sure he understood implicitly the why of it.

Tied as he was, Tseng had to actually step around him, noting the gag in his mouth to be the light up tie he’d had swinging haphazardly around his neck in a horribly done knot. Reno barely noticed him from his position, far too entranced by what had to be the candy cane merrily buzzing inside him. The novelty toy was lodged in tight due to his hair, pants and underwear in a heap beside him, cock weeping heavily at a lack of friction.

“Oh Reno.” Tseng murmured, leaning over his subordinate with a low tsk. “When will you learn to not taunt a predator further up the food chain than you?” He hummed, moving to crouch and cup his cheek. Reno keened out a low note when the calculated move lodged the cane further even as it tugged at his scalp, sending pleading eyes in his direction. The poor Turk was overstimulated, given the sticky puddle in front of his cock, and another release was hard to come by, without a bit of friction to his reddened length.

A muffled whine came, but Tseng merely shook his head. “Oh no, you see. Scarlet let me know where to find my present of the evening, and I don’t think I’m ready to unwrap him yet. However,” He paused, the sound of his zipper sliding through the air, gaining addled realization from the man. “I can be convinced. Why don’t you show me what a good present you are?”

Reno merely moaned around the tie in response.


End file.
